


Stranded all in love (on my own)

by varity



Series: Halloween [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A little, Character Study, Dirty Talk, Fluff, M/M, Phone Sex, i am so bad at tagging, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 10:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2465261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varity/pseuds/varity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Louis stays for about a week, seeing his friends and taking naps at all hours of the day. He gets cuddled, prodded and drooled on by various siblings and Jay fusses over his busy schedule and the state of his hair equal amounts. Louis starts to get restless about halfway through, checking his phone constantly and shushing Jay when she tuts at him with a knowing smile."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranded all in love (on my own)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a prequel, sort of, to the Halloween Homecoming fic (http://archiveofourown.org/works/2454683) but it works on its own, I guess. I don't know what happened, it started of as a bit of a Louis character study but then it lead to smut. Again. Though not as much as in the other one. 
> 
> Anyway, enough rambling. 
> 
> Title from Kings Of Leon - Closer, which you could or could not listen to while reading this ;)
> 
> Disclaimer: although I sure hope this is true to some degree, it sure doesn't have to be and that's perfectly fine. It's called FanFICTION for a reason! That includes respecting the 4th wall!!!

The tour ends in Miami and Louis goes straight home. He's missed his family and relishes the fact that he will have to be nothing but himself for the next couple of days. For them, he doesn’t have to be Louis Tomlinson, there won't be any appearances to be kept up, words to be chosen carefully or gestures to be censored. Being on tour is breathtaking, exciting, a constant thrum of nervous energy from meeting the fans to the shows themselves all the way to sitting in a hotel room afterwards, trying to calm down enough to rest. By the end of it now, Louis is exhausted and ready to calm down for more than a couple of hours at a time. 

Harry kisses him goodbye on the bus, the other boys having cleared out to give them some space to say their farewells. It’s more self-preservation than courtesy on their part, Louis knows. They had been caught in such various states of intimacy by the others that somewhere along the line, the boys had learned to read the signs. It doesn’t stop them giving Harry and Louis shit about it, but it has reduced the times where someone sees Louis with a hand down Harry’s pants and sucking a bruise into his collarbone to a bare minimum. 

“’m gonna miss you, Babe,” Harry whispers into Louis’ mouth, pressing his thumbs to Louis’ cheekbones where he holds his face close. Louis stares at him for a moment, trying to drink in Harry’s face, his curls escaping the bun, the way his lashes curl around the deep green of his eyes, his lips pink and wet from their kiss. He adores Harry like this, open and soft, unashamed of his feelings or being sappy or clingy. Louis always adores Harry, really, but this is a special part of him, the part that is not supposed to be known to the world, the fans, the media. Most of the outside world wants and gets Harry Styles, notorious ladies’ man and party boy, but Louis gets to see this. Sometimes, he’s almost grateful for the incompetence of their management team, playing Harry up to be someone so completely different from whom he really is, because it means he gets to keep that part of Harry all to himself, a secret, a treasure that is his to cherish and protect. 

He has to kiss him then, pulls him back in and grips Harry’s hips with a force not strictly necessary since Louis is pretty sure that he isn’t going anywhere. Harry sighs into it, but resists Louis’ attempts at deepening their kiss, calming the movement of their lips together and loosening the hold on Louis’ face to a soft caress instead. 

“You have to go, Lou, Zayn’s waiting,” he tells Louis quietly, “go on, we’ll talk when you land”. 

Louis steals a final brush of their lips, squeezing Harry’s hips before taking a step backwards. 

“Okay, yeah, when I land.” He murmurs, turning to grab his duffel and make is way to find Zayn so they can leave together. 

**

There are paps waiting for them when they land but Louis can’t be bothered to hide his smokes or even put on shoes. He lets himself be carried to the car instead, feeling silly and excited for the time he gets to spend with his family. 

For Louis, finishing a tour is like coming down from a high, like trying to figure yourself out on an early-morning subway that’s full of commuters while you are heading home from a party, still half-drunk and hyperaware of everything going on around you. The feeling of leaving the people you constantly spent time with for months and going to see a family and friends you haven’t seen in forever is overwhelming, a strange mixture of excitement and apprehension, making Louis jittery, restless. 

After all the stuff they acquired over the course of the tour has been loaded into his car, Louis drives himself to London to un- and repack before heading to Doncaster. Arriving at their house without Harry there is strange, the place clean but still feeling a bit abandoned since no-one’s really lived there since the tour had started. He doesn’t stay long, to keyed-up to be alone. 

**

Upon pulling up in front of his mum’s and Dan’s house, he takes a few deep breaths before turning off the car and heading inside. He’d talked to Harry on the drive, neither of them having anything really new to say but both reassured by the other’s voice nonetheless. At one point, Louis could tell that Harry was drifting off to sleep, his breath coming slow and steady and neither of them having said something for the last couple of minutes. He couldn’t bring himself to hang up though, just listened to Harry breathing all the way across the world and imagined how he would look, sleep soft and warm in their bed.

** 

Louis stays for about a week, seeing his friends and taking naps at all hours of the day. He gets cuddled, prodded and drooled on by various siblings and Jay fusses over his busy schedule and the state of his hair equal amounts. Louis starts to get restless about halfway through, checking his phone constantly and shushing Jay when she tuts at him with a knowing smile. 

Louis is a family person, loves the constant buzz his siblings create around him, loves always having a pair of tiny hands grabbing for him wanting to play or tell him about their day. Louis loves being home, but he misses Harry constantly. It doesn't seem to matter that they have been on the road together for the past seven months, sharing rooms and hotels, buses and planes and everything in between.

Somehow, Louis never expected it to work the way it does. He's always been restless, loud and silly. He’s always been looking for new things, exciting things to discover and enjoy. His time with the band has basically been that, hundreds of things to be discovered, not all of them to be enjoyed. Through all this, there has been only one constant and that’s been Harry. Louis fell so hard and so fast for him he surprised himself, never having expected to go out to chase his dream of performing and finding something so precious along the way. During the first months when they discovered each other, Louis somehow expected to fall out of love with Harry as fast has he had fallen in. He didn’t trust himself with his own feelings, the sheer magnitude of them only increasing with every touch, every smile and every kiss they shared. He told himself to enjoy it while it lasted, then. 

The more they learned about each other, the more something in Louis settled. His initial notion that he might get bored of their relationship or distracted by the incredible life they suddenly lead as a band became more and more ridiculous. They fit, is the thing, and living in each other’s pockets for more time than Louis ever thought he could handle hasn’t changed the way he feels about Harry at all. 

Harry, who can be loud and funny and charm a crowd of 80,000 people with a dimpled smile and an endless ‘Hiiiii’. Louis knows more sides to him though, knows he is caring and responsible and often so wronged by the world, the industry they are in and the people in charge that it makes Louis sick sometimes. Mostly he gets the urge to protect him fiercely, shield him from all the bullshit and keep him tucked away against his chest thinking mine, mine, mine. Of course, he can't in public, can't act on all the urges he gets, the constant need to hold and touch, run his hand down Harry’s arms or tuck a stray curl back into a silly headscarf. 

When they’re apart like this, that need doesn’t really go away. 

**

Harry calls him on day four, sounding slightly breathless and whispering into the phone, “are you alone?”

Louis freezes with his tea halfway to his mouth, glancing around his mother’s empty kitchen. He swallows then answers, “technically, yes, but I have a feeling I need to be somewhere less prone to being walked in on.”

He can hear Harry’s breath hitch on the end of the line, the rustle of sheets and Kings of Leon playing softly in the background. He starts walking to his room then, feeling a slight flush creep up his cheeks. 

“I miss you so much, babe, so much. I saw your pictures, from the –ah, the plane and your arse looked so good there, so –uh, so good…” Harry lets his rambling trail off, giving in to what sounds like a whimper when he moves. 

Louis has to swallow again, images flooding his mind: Harry on his back, legs spread open as he touches himself, hair a mess on the pillows, lips bitten red. He closes the door to his room and sits down on the bed, palming himself through his sweats. 

“I’m wearing those right now, actually,” he teases Harry, sounding a lot more collected than he feels, “though I might take them of now.”

“Don’t!” Harry hisses, drawing a in a laboured breath that makes goosebumps erupt all down Louis’ spine. “Keep them on, keep- ah, ‘wanna picture you, ‘wanna picture my hands on you.” 

It’s Louis’ turn to breathe in deeply then, try to collect his thoughts enough to figure out how long he’ll be alone for, what the next time is he actually has to be anywhere other than here, listening to his husband getting off on the phone.

“Okay, I’ll leave them on but I am getting rid of the shirt, getting kinda warm.” When he gets the phone back to his ear Harry has started moaning quietly. “How long have you been going at it, babe?” Louis asks him, lying backwards on the bed. 

“Mnnhh, just… just a couple minutes, when I – uh, when I saw those pictures I just thought… thought about you and how you feel and ahhh…” Harry always speak rather slowly, even under normal circumstances, but now he keeps pausing to draw in breaths or grunt a little, moaning around his words. Louis is hard and leaking into his pants by the time Harry stops rambling, just the sound of his slick hand working over himself coming through the phone. 

“Thought about what it would feel to have me around your cock, did you?” Louis prompts him, “thinking about what it’s like when I sit on your lap, riding you slow and good? Slow down, love, there you go, nice and slow and de—ah deep.” He splutters a little on the last words, the images he conjured for Harry catching up with him, too. He rubs over the front of his sweats, slow and hard, the friction just right. He knows what it feels like to have Harry buried inside him, how it feels to be stretched out around Harry’s hard dick, reaching just there, touching him just right with every circle of his hips. He grinds his butt down on his bed with a sigh. 

“’M so close, Lou,” Harry sounds a little desperate, his panting fading in and out in volume as if he’s throwing his head back and forth on the pillow, “so good, please, need to feel you.” 

“Fuck,” Louis breathes, his cock twitching under his own hand and he’s close as well, ridiculously so just from hearing Harry writhing around the sheets, half-formed words and moans and Louis, Louis, Louis falling from his lips. 

They come within seconds of each other, Harry with a drawn out whine, Louis with a strangled sound low in his throat. When their breathing slows down, Louis hears the sheets ruffling again; pictures Harry cuddling into them, sleepy and satisfied. 

“You know, I’m gonna have to go pick up my sisters from school now, and I have come in my pants!” He complains lightly, his pants already itchy and gross. Worth it, though. 

“Wash the sweats, but wear them when you get home, please…” Harry murmurs, sounding half-asleep already, “I miss you, sorry for making you a mess.” 

Louis smiles into the phone, though Harry can’t hear it and his heart feels like it is too big for his body. He’s so overwhelmed by Harry sometimes, still, after over four years. It’s moments like these when he’s so charmed by him, so in love it almost hurts that he can’t quite understand it’s really true. He thinks it shows on his face sometimes, knows it’s too hard to contain the fond smile threatening to split his face in two, because he cannot believe how he got so lucky. In these moments, he’d shout it from the proverbial rooftops if he could, take Harry’s hand in public and never let it go again. 

He knows he can’t right now, not even tomorrow, but someday (maybe in the not-so-distant future), he will be able to and there will be no stopping him then. 

“Can’t wait to come home, love,” he tells Harry quietly before they hang up.

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on tumblr (which I am still trying to figure out...): youllneverwalkaloneagain.tumblr.com


End file.
